Secrets
by miyelo
Summary: Things will never be the same in this new world so why expect people to react the same way as before?
1. Chapter 1

SECRETS

Shane sat at the table with the new people; Otis, the other field hand whose name he didn't recall, and Maggie sat with him while Patricia served them an honest-to-goodness hot meal. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real meal around a dining room table. Under other circumstances, he would have been happy.

Right now, he felt a little guilty. His best friend sat in the next room in anguish over his critically-injured son, and here he sat beside the man who'd shot him. Shane tried to remain cordial – he knew that technically it was an accident,- but Carl was like his own son.

From where he sat, he could see into the hallway and part of the way up the stairs. It was one of those huge old farmhouses he loved, like the one his grandparents had lived in when he was growing up. He wished they'd been able to leave all the doors and windows open to the fall breeze, the way his grandma always had. It wasn't safe enough now at night, even this far out from the city.

His eyes registered something he'd not noticed before. Two small bare feet sticking out of blue-jeaned legs were visible on the highest step he could comfortably see. He squinted and leaned over to get a better look. They'd introduced all the members of their group earlier, he thought. They hadn't mentioned this one.

Patricia saw his puzzled look and leaned down to follow his gaze.

"Whatcha see, young man?" she asked.

"There's someone else in the house?" he asked.

Nodding, she straightened up and said in a hushed tone. "That's Annie. She doesn't come down much."

That intrigued him and he leaned over a little further. He would have thought he was seeing a teenage girl but when he saw her face, he knew she was closer to his own age. It was a troubled face, eyes dull and dark, mouth thin because the muscles were drawn so tight. She might have been pretty, but she was so gaunt and wounded.

He smiled slightly and nodded a greeting, and although he was quite certain she was looking straight at him, her expression never changed.

Feeling a little insulted, he turned his attention back to the others. "Not very friendly, is she?"

A frown formed on each face around him and he realized he'd made a mistake.

"Don't go making judgments about situations you don't know anything about," Patricia said, turning back to her stove.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "You're right."

Otis clapped him gently on the arm. "It's okay, you couldn't know. Annie lost her husband and daughter last week. Maggie found her, half dead herself. She has hardly spoken two words since she got here. She just stays in her room and doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with anyone."

"She doesn't want to eat," Maggie added. "A few bites a couple of times a day if we push it on her."

Shane turned to look again but the girl was gone. He could feel the requisite pity for her, but he'd not met anyone during the last month who hadn't lost someone. Still, as he went through the motions of the meal, her haunted face haunted him.

Evening faded into night. Hershel dozed in an armchair next to his patient. Rick draped across the end of his son's bed. Shane was offered the couch in the living room and though he was bone-tired, he couldn't fall asleep. Something about the girl…he just couldn't get her off his mind. What surprised him was that he wasn't even thinking about her in a sexual way.

Granted, the pressure was building up. It had been over three weeks since he'd been with Laurie, and that should've never happened in the first place. Carol was too much like his mother and Andrea was just a whiny bitch. He'd pretty much taken thoughts of sex off the table right now in any case.

A creak across the room brought him to full alertness. From the way they'd had to live lately, his first impulse was to leap to his feet, aiming his pistol. But he resisted the urge and waited. No doors or windows had opened so no walkers could have gotten inside.

The sound was faint but he recognized it as someone coming down the stairs. The room was mostly dark, the only light coming from a dim lamp near Carl's bed. It silhouetted the girl crossing the room from the stairs to the kitchen. She wore a long white gown, barefoot, tiptoeing over the hardwood floor. She didn't look in his direction.

A small light flipped on in the kitchen and he heard the sink turn on, again thanking God for well pumps and generators. The sound of a chair sliding out, then squeaking as she sat in it.

Shane sat up and could see her at the table. He knew he was in complete darkness to her at this angle but at his first movement, she froze and stared straight in his direction.

He stood up as quick as he could without seeming to hurry – he didn't want to scare her off again.

As he approached the table, he could see that he hadn't had to worry about that. She followed him with her eyes as he reached for a glass and got himself something to drink too. He sat across from her.

"Hi," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb any of the others. "I'm Shane."

She nodded, her hair very straight, long and as luminous as her eyes in the pale light. "I know."

This was proving more difficult than he'd imagined.

"You're Annie."

She nodded again, the barest hint of a smile that only touched her lips. "I know."

Shane couldn't help but laugh softly. In another life, Annie would be beautiful, witty, and playful. She was so emaciated now that she could almost pass for a walker.

"'Ya hungry?" he asked. "I know you missed supper."

She shook her head.

"I could make you a sandwich?" he offered.

She glared at him, telling him in no uncertain terms she knew what he was attempting. She was not going to play his game.

"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in surrender. "I'll quit, but I'm such a talker, it'll just seem like I'm talking to myself."

With the same whisper of a smile, she said, "I know."

"Okay, I get it already. I'll just sit here and stare at you till you get tired of it."

She shrugged mildly as if to say, "Suit yourself."

So they sat for nearly half an hour, separated physically only by the width of the breakfast table, and they stared at each other.

She was so petite that she could've passed for a high school student. The gown was an old-fashioned flannel granny gown that came up high on her neck and all the way down to her wrists – like a kid in a Christmas commercial sneaking down to try to catch Santa. She appeared to be in her late 20's or early 30's. The reason it was impossible to tell was the way she looked out of her eyes. He remembered Vietnam vets who'd looked like that – they called it the "thousand yard stare". Small as she was, there was nothing weak or fearful about her. Whatever she'd seen, it must've been bad indeed.

Annie had started off mostly annoyed with this stranger. She'd been watching when they arrived with the cop's kid. She had ached for the father – too much was happening to the innocent kids. She'd watched out of sight as this man comforted his friend, how he'd cleaned the boy's blood off his face while he cried. That had touched her, but left her bitterly jealous. No one had held her while she had cried. She had simply vowed never to do that again – alone or with someone else. She would never attach to someone else so she would never have to hurt that way. Besides, her heart could live another hundred years and never be rid of the hurt it held now.

She shoved those thoughts deep inside – if she didn't, they would take her somewhere she had no business going.

He was nice-looking, a little hint of Italian that lifted him up from the typical "good 'ol boy" status most of them had. She really couldn't believe he was just sitting there silently, pacing her. If she sat there all night, would he sit there too or get tired and give up? Had this turned into a contest?

It surprised her when she realized she was the one to cave first. But as she stared and evaluated, she found herself being pulled into those black eyes. She could see compassion there without pity, curiosity without judgment, and appeal without lust.

Annie spoke before she thought.

"You make people feel safe."

It startled him in the silence and he jumped, nearly speechless, but then found his voice. "I make you feel safe?"

She passed over his question. "You weren't embarrassed to take care of your friend. Some guys would be."

He was surprised that she'd spoken two whole sentences in a row. She had a soft, clear voice.

"He's been my best friend since we were kids. And now we work…worked…together. He would have done the same for me."

Annie shook her head slightly and took a sip. "He would have wanted to but he's not as strong."

Shane almost decided to write this chick off as a nut case but when he gave it some deeper thought, he had to admit she was right.

At least she was talking.

They weren't aware of anything beyond their conversation until the sun began to rise. A rooster crowed somewhere off in the distance and they heard stirring in the other parts of the house.

"I should go get changed," she told him. It was almost as if a shade had been pulled back down over her face.

From all their interaction, Shane felt as if he'd been allowed into her confidence. Maybe she just wasn't ready to let the others in.

He stood when she did.

"Will you come back down?"

She didn't answer at first, only staring at him like she'd done when they'd first met.

"Later."

"Okay," he nodded.

Shane went to check on Carl before going back to his couch. The boy was stable, Hershel said, but still critical. All they could do was wait and see. Rick was insistent on finding Laurie but too weak from giving blood to go look for her. As Shane lay down, he realized it would fall to him to go get her. And she didn't want anything to do with him.

He was asleep almost immediately from having no rest all night. Less than an hour later, Patricia woke him and the smell of sausage frying made his stomach growl. While they were eating, Annie came down the stairs, dressed in jeans and a sweater. The others at the table looked up at her in surprise.

Patricia, always the grandmotherly one, recovered first.

"Good morning, Annie. Are you hungry?"

There were warring emotions clearly visible on her face. Shane found himself mentally cheering for her.

"At least a biscuit?" Patricia suggested, it was the staple of any good Southern breakfast.

Annie consented. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. This was the first time since she'd been there that she would be dining with them. Their concern wasn't that they had known her and cared for her as a friend before. It was simply the fact that she was a living human being, and that being in such short supply, was too precious a commodity to let go to waste.

There was an empty seat between Otis and Maggie and she slipped in there silently. Shane sat across the table and she looked intently at him as if to tell him she was only doing this because of him. He smiled at her and nodded.

Patricia passed her a plate with a single biscuit on it. She asked Annie if she wanted anything else, Annie shook her head.

"Coffee or juice?"

"Juice," she answered and that was the only word she uttered during the whole meal. She ate the biscuit plain, taking tiny bites.

Lack of sleep had made the dark lines on her face even darker. Her eyes were brighter though, as if life was threatening to return.

After the meal, she quietly said thank you and slipped away, going out the front door. Shane complimented Patricia's culinary skills and followed Annie out. He found her on her way towards a gazebo in the middle of the front yard.

His cautious eyes checked out the situation as he crossed the yard. There was no close tree line, no bushes where walkers could sneak up from, and he had his back-up weapon in his holster.

There was an old porch swing hanging in the gazebo and Annie had taken one end. He took the other.

"You came down and ate with us," he noted. "I'm glad."

She turned sideways and sat cross-legged facing him. "I was hungry," she answered.

"I imagine so."

She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, then wiggled them over the back of the swing. "My hair is starting to fall out. I guess I have to eat or go bald."

"And you'll live longer," he pointed out.

"Why in hell would I want to do that?"

That wasn't a concept that Shane could even begin to wrap his mind around. His survival instincts were far too strong to contemplate that.

"Because you are alive," he said. "There's a reason for that. You may not see it now but if there wasn't, you wouldn't be here."

"That doesn't mean it's a good reason," she said flatly. There was silence for a long time.

After cleaning the breakfast dishes, Otis and Michael went off to tend the farm. Maggie and Patricia came out quietly and sat in the old rockers on the porch.

"Would you look at that!" Patricia commented, nodding towards the gazebo. "Didn't see that coming."

"They sat in the kitchen and talked all night, Dad said," Maggie informed her. She was a little envious. She'd not seen any other live men since the world had gone to hell. Shane was good-looking.

"I'm glad," Patricia said sincerely. "She wasn't going to last long. I did notice that she didn't wake up screaming for once.  
>"Did she ever tell any of ya'll what happened to her?" Maggie asked. She was the one who found Annie, but she had been full-on catatonic by then. All she had said was, "They're dead." Maggie had guessed she meant her family and Annie had nodded, then passed out. Hershel had given her two of his last IV's when she'd first been brought there.<p>

"No," Patricia answered, "I wonder if she will tell him."

"I'm sorry," Annie finally told him. "I didn't use to be this way. I was actually a very happy, cheerful mom."

Shane nodded. "I understand. I was lucky and didn't have anyone close, but most of the other members of our group did. Carol, she's one of the ladies, her daughter disappeared two days ago. That's what we were doing in the woods, looking for Sophia."

"I wonder which is worse," Annie mused aloud. "Not knowing or seeing them die?" She shuttered.

Even Shane was speechless. He'd seen people lose their loved ones but really couldn't say he understood it. He knew she carried a huge black chunk in her heart because of what she'd seen and they said she'd not spoken of it. He'd always been told if you let it out, shared it with someone, it was easier to bear.

"Which did you have?" he asked bluntly.

Annie – who'd been looking out over the field of yellowing grass wheat – jerked her head back to face him. She glared at him with a look of bitter hate.

He almost apologized and changed the subject, but now it had been breeched. The scab was off, the blood flowing freely. Time to dress the wound properly, by having someone else help. Besides, that look of hatred didn't scare him – he had an ex-wife.

"Tell me," he said very softly, putting his larger calloused hand over her smaller, cold one.

She screamed at him. "Who do you think you are, asking me that? You don't know me! You don't care about me! You're like a rubber-necker at a bloody car wreck, just wanting to see the corpse!" She wanted to get up and run, but it was suddenly very clear that she had nowhere to run to.

Under normal circumstances, Shane wouldn't have accepted that tone (that's _why_ there was an ex-wife) but things would never be normal again.

"You're only partially right," he said quietly. "I don't know you. But the rest, you're wrong about. I care because you're a human being who hurts. I was a cop. It was often my job to care about strangers who were hurting. And honey, I've seen enough corpses lately that sometimes I'd rather poke my eyes out than see another."

If he'd said any other thing in the world, she would have walked away, but she didn't move at all.

"Let it out, Annie. Don't keep it all bottled up."

After several deep breaths, she whispered, "I don't know if I can." She drew her knees up and hugged them, burying her face in them.

Shane scooted just a bit closer, placing his hand on her head.

"Get it out," he repeated.

Two weeks had passed since the first walkers had showed up. She and Mike had managed to stay in their house safely with their seven year-old daughter Lucy. Every once in a while, one of the creatures would shamble up and she and Mike even made a game out of who'd killed the most. But after two weeks, the food began to run low.

They debated moving on or all going out to forage together but Mike finally settled things, saying he would just run up the road to the Food Depot. Three miles at the most – he'd take his truck, fill it with whatever he could find, and be right back.

From the moment he left, Annie had bad feelings. She sat on her porch, waiting. And sat. And sat. He'd left around noon and was not back at midnight. She was certain something had happened. Lucy was old enough to sense it too, she couldn't sleep so she was out on the porch with Annie.

Just when she thought she would explode with anxiety, a figured appeared at the corner of the yard. It was too dark to tell, but her heart leaped, feeling that it surely must be Mike, returning home. She called out his name, but got no answer. Lucy was excitedly calling her daddy.

Only a couple of seconds cost her everything. She turned her back and reached inside the front door to flip on the big security lights on the house. When she turned back, Lucy was already off the porch, running with arms outstretched to meet him.

It was Mike. But it wasn't Mike. In the brighter light, Annie could see the uncoordinated way he walked, then the dark blood splotches on his clothing and the rictus on his face.

"No, Lucy, no!" Annie screamed, but it was too late. Lucy stopped but the thing that had been her husband took two steps and grabbed the little girl.

Screaming all the while, Annie grabbed her gun and flew off the porch and across the yard.

"Mike, no!" she shouted at it, but it had no recollection of who Mike was. Lucy struggled to get loose but he bit her, on the forearm she used to try to shield herself.

The only way to save her daughter was to shoot her husband. Annie barely hesitated, running on the adrenaline that surged through her veins. Mike's face exploded, splattering black gore all over the three of them. He fell and dropped Lucy. Annie snatched her up and ran for the house.

"No, no, no, no," she said over and over again as if she said it enough, it would change what had happened. Lucy was crying hysterically but Annie didn't think she knew the gravity of what had just happened to her. Lucy was crying over her daddy, not over her wound.

Annie sat her on the counter in the bathroom and cleaned her arm thoroughly. It wasn't a very bad bite, maybe the antibiotic cream would heal it. Maybe it was not deep enough to…

She shook that thought from her head. She would not give power to that possibility in any form.

They went to her bed and she curled up next to Lucy, trying hard to tell her everything would be okay. She was thankful it was so late and the child fell fitfully asleep. Annie didn't think she herself would ever sleep again. She couldn't stop the tears that flowed over her cheeks and fell into her daughter's hair. She called Mike's name again and again but of course he never answered. She tried to convince herself she was only having a nightmare and eventually she would wake up and he'd hold her and rock her safely back to sleep. She would not admit to herself that it was her husband's corpse lying in the middle of her yard.

Just before dawn, Lucy whined in her sleep. In the faint light, Annie could see that her skin was flushed. Streaks of red appeared from under the bandage on the girl's arm.

"No," Annie begged quietly, "Please, God, no. Not this. Anything but this!"

It happened quicker than she'd imagined. Lucy's fever soared until her skin was almost too hot to touch. She woke up briefly calling, "Mommy! Save me!" She was no longer aware that Annie was holding her.

She'd been dead for nearly half an hour before her body cooled enough for Annie to realize.

Shock replaced sorrow as Annie laid her daughter gently back on the bed. She brushed the long, fine hair and arranged it like a waterfall on Mike's pillow. She continued to sit and hold her hand, tracing the lines of her beautiful, innocent face with her fingers. She remembered the day Lucy was born, how tiny and wonderful she'd been. She loved to hug Lucy. How could she live and never be able to hold her again?

It became clear to her that she didn't have to live without her. Her gun was within arm's reach on the bedside table. She stared it for a long time, right up until she felt her daughter move.

Annie knew in theory what was going to happen, but when it did, she was startled. Lucy was alive! Not dead! The fever had broken, she would survive! But one look at her face told her the truth.

Lucy opened her eyes and Annie saw they had gone milky. The little girl bared her teeth in a snarl. She was dead, but her tiny body was moving on its own.

Annie had watched enough of them to know what Lucy's fate would be. She would roam as far as she could, her body hungry and driving her but not knowing the why. She would eventually rot and fall down. She was so small though that she would never be able to get food for herself.

Annie cried again at the thought of her child – even this incarnation – suffering. There was only one clear and merciful answer.

In slow motion, she reached for the gun. Lucy was beginning to try to get up now, even reaching hungrily for Annie. She froze for a moment when her mother pressed the cold metal barrel to her forehead.

"I can't…" Annie moaned, anguish twisting every fiber of her body. This was the opposite of every minute of her life for the past seven years. She'd spent each moment trying to _protect_ her child. How could she do this?

Lucy gurgled and growled again and Annie knew she had to decide immediately. She cocked the hammer but chickened out again.

Her daughter grabbed her arm with both hands suddenly and tried to pull it to her mouth. Her strength surprised Annie, it was much more than a seven year-old usually possessed.

Jerking her arm and the gun away, Annie grabbed a pillow and pressed her child back on the bed. She could feel her trying to bite through it.

Blanking her mind totally, she put the gun to the pillow and pulled the trigger. With a final jerk of dead muscles, Lucy lay still.

Back in the swing, Annie said, "I don't remember anything after that until I woke up here. Maggie said she found me in the living room, sitting in a chair. I remember that it was light sometimes and dark sometimes, that's all. Hershel estimated that I'd been there maybe three days."

Shane stared at her wide-eyed. What could he possibly say?

She continued. "They tell me I'm still trying to die, by starving myself."

"You said you were going to … do it… before Lucy… turned," he asked. "What stopped you?"

"I didn't want to die and forget them, but I didn't want to live and remember them either. So I just didn't do either one.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "I know that doesn't help in the slightest."

Annie dug the palms of her hands into her eyes. "You're the only one who knows," she told him. "I'd really rather not have them know that I murdered my own family."

"Oh, Annie!" he exclaimed, "No one would think you did that! But I won't say anything."

"Thanks." She seemed to collapse into herself, like it had exhausted her to recount it. He wished he knew her well enough to put his arms around her – if only to offer comfort, nothing else. He felt her wall and had to respect it.

Later they walked, first through the wheat, then down an overgrown path in the woods. Shane had been antsy about getting too far away from shelter at first, but she assured him they'd seen very few walkers out this far and she showed him the gun she carried hidden in her waistband. He laughed off his worries. She was so much stronger than she let on.

They ate some canned soup at an abandoned farmhouse they came upon. Annie actually did seem to lighten up after she told him and found that he did not judge her. He wished he'd known her before all this.

She got tired in the afternoon, her body had not been properly nourished in some time and she just wore out. Shane appreciated that his mind had been kept off the serious things and he was almost reluctant to go back.

It was almost full dark when they returned. Patricia, Otis, Hershel, and even Rick reprimanded them for being out so long alone. Patricia reheated dinner and was pleased to see that Annie ate everything on her plate. Annie was able to thank them all for taking care of her during her worst hours. There were more words than any of them had heard from her before.

Carl took a turn for the worst in the evening. Hershel said that he was losing more blood than Rick could provide and he needed surgery to get the other bullet fragments or he would die. Hershel needed more equipment than he had.

Otis – formerly an EMT – knew that FEMA had set up a mobile hospital at the high school five miles down the road. They would have what Hershel needed.

Rick staggered to his feet, asking if there was a vehicle he could borrow to go get the stuff.

"You're in no shape to do that, buddy," Shane pushed him back down. "Make me a list, Doc, I'll go."

"I'll go with you," Otis stepped up. "I know what to look for. And you shouldn't go alone anyhow. The place was overrun."

Shane had doubts about the big man. How could he sneak in and out from anywhere? He was at least 6'3 and had to weigh 400 pounds.

At least he wouldn't have to go alone.

"Carl will be okay till morning. You two can get a fresh start then."

Annie had stayed out of the room. Not knowing Rick or Carl, she felt like she would only be intruding. She sat alone on the front porch rail but could hear them through the open window. It disturbed her to think of Shane going on such a risky mission. It disturbed her even more that it disturbed her in the first place. She refused to get close to another person unless and until this nightmare was over.

Shane wandered through the downstairs searching for Annie. He wasn't looking forward to what he had to do, he couldn't deny that. He just wanted to talk to her, get her thoughts on it. He came from the kitchen and approached the couch that served as his bed and he saw her though the window.

"Hey," he said as he gently closed the screen door behind him. He tried to seem nonchalant.

"Hey," she echoed, flicking a paint chip from the rail.

He leaned on his elbows on the rail on the other side of the post she was propped against, lacing his fingers together and studying his ragged, dirty nails.

"So, do you know where the high school is?" he asked, trying to keep the nervousness he felt out of his voice.

"Yeah," she answered, "'Bout five miles that way." She pointed left. "Not far."

"I have to go there tomorrow."

"Yeah, I heard," she said. "I'll go with you."

For some reason that sent a mild shiver through him.

"I'd let you, if you were stronger. I think you need to recuperate a bit more before undertaking that kind of job."

Annie knew he was probably right, if he meant physical strength. Maybe she wanted to go to satisfy her deathwish. Maybe she wanted another chance to save a child.

"See? I told you that you make people feel safe. You're going to risk your life for someone else."

Shane frowned, knowing that he didn't feel like the kind of person she believed him to be.

As if she was reading his mind, she said, "You'll do fine. Goodnight."

Annie slipped off the rail and went inside, hurrying up the stairs. He jumped when the screen door slammed behind him. Man, he really hoped she was right.

The only reason he was able to sleep was because he had not the night before. He dreamed that he was running, trying desperately to find someone who was screaming for help. No matter where he looked, he couldn't find the source of the cries.

Then he realized he was awake, still hearing the screaming. He shook his head to clear out the sleep and realized it was Annie. The sound cut off suddenly. There was mumbling coming from up the stairs.

Should he go check on her? The others were up there, in their rooms. It had seemed that area was automatically off limits, their private quarters. He'd not been invited up there. But then he heard her sobbing and decided.

At the top of the stairs, the glow of a lamp came from the open door of the first room on the left. Maggie sat on the edge of the bed, patting Annie's shoulder. Annie was curled in a ball facing away from the doorway. Maggie didn't seem troubled at Shane's appearance.

He took a few steps into the room.

"She okay?"

Maggie shrugged. "It happens every night. We just try to get her quiet before she attracts any visitors."

He nodded. "I'll sit with her."

Another shrug. "Okay, if she doesn't mind."

"I don't think she'll mind."

Maggie left and pulled the door closed behind her.

Shane sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on Annie's back. She took a deep breath and then forced herself to be quiet.

"Is it okay that I sit here with you?"

She only nodded.

"None of them know what you're dreaming about," he said. "They don't know how to help you."

Her voice was strained. She hated for him to see her like this.

"No one can help this," she said.

"You've said twice now that I make people feel safe. Now I'm thinking you may have meant that as a challenge."

Annie wanted to scream at him to go away. She didn't want anyone to see this weakness. She didn't want pity and she didn't want to be saved. But at the same time, she didn't want him to leave her alone. She couldn't say it though.

"I'll stay awhile," he told her, "Just while you go to sleep, alright?"

She shrugged, feeling torn in half.

"Light off?" he asked, reaching for the lamp.

Quickly, Annie cried, "No!" Two many things became visible in the dark; too many faces.

"Okay, light stays on," he said reassuringly. He did what seemed very natural. He stretched out behind her, making sure he stayed discreetly on top of the covers, and he put his arm over her.

Annie tensed immediately and Shane was afraid he'd overstepped his boundaries.

"Nothing else, Annie," he whispered. "Just let me make you feel safe for a little while. I'm not asking anything else."

A moment paused, then a couple more, then she relaxed.

Externally, anyhow. Inside, she was screaming in protest. How dare he try to make her feel better? How dare he make her remember what this felt like? How could he dare make her want to feel it again?

She suddenly pulled away from him and sat up, backing into the corner.

Shane propped up on his elbow and watched her.

Annie shook her head. "You can't do that," she repeated, shaking violently. "You can't hold me like that."

"I'm sorry," he said, sitting up, confused. "I only wanted to help."

Her eyes were wide, whether with fright or anger, he wasn't sure.

"No!" she exclaimed, "I don't need to be okay, don't you understand? I've done nothing to deserve being okay when everyone else is dead, dying, or suffering! You can't make me want this and then be gone too!"

"I'm not going anywhere I won't come back from," he assured, reaching for her again.

She jerked away, frantic.

"Everybody's going to be gone," she said, looking him straight in the eye now as if she was presenting a perfectly reasonable argument. "Everybody will be gone!"

Shane finally reached her and roughly pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest.

"Ah, don't think like that! You don't deserve to hurt anymore. You've been through enough of that for ten lifetimes. If there's comfort in front of you – even for a moment, grab it! Any is better than none!"

She fought him at first, but that quickly changed to burying her face in his shoulder and moaning. The anguish was too much for mere tears. He knew she was crying for her family and that she never believed she would be okay again.

For a long time, he held her like that. Maybe she'd never grieved for them – the others said she'd hardly spoke the whole time she was here. Maybe she tried to grieve in her dreams and that's why she woke up screaming.

When she became quiet, he felt her cuddle in closer. Had she accepted what he said?

Not pulling away, she whispered just below his ear, "I'm afraid of you."

"Why?" he was surprised. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I'm afraid of… of…" she struggled but couldn't put her feelings into words. "I'm just afraid of everything right now."

Shane found it ironic that she thought he was so brave and safe when he felt so weak and scared inside. At the same time, he'd seen her as so strong and courageous and here she was collapsing in his arms, professing fear of everything.

He couldn't help but laugh quietly and then quickly explain so as not to offend her. The wonderful thing was that she laughed a little too.

"I'm not asking anything of you and I'm not making any promises to you," he said, "But putting my arms around you isn't just for you. It makes me feel a less alone too. Let's just leave it at that and go to sleep, okay?"

She nodded and crawled back under the covers. Shane spooned up behind her, this time under the covers too. She pushed everything else out of her mind and fell asleep, concentrating on his arm around her waist.

Annie surprised everyone by helping cook breakfast the next morning, and by actually seeming chatty. She didn't explain her change in demeanor.

After the meal, Shane and Otis loaded for bear. Rick embraced Shane, urging him to be careful and to hurry. Patricia cried as she told Otis to come back.

Shane turned to Annie just as he opened the door to the old truck. She wasn't sure what he expected her to do.

She nodded and smiled, hugging herself tightly and whispered, "You'll do fine."

He smiled and nodded his agreement. "And I will come back, I promise."

She accepted that and turned away.

Maggie left shortly afterwards on her horse. Rick had grown so worried about his wife not knowing where they were or that her son was possibly dying. From his description of the traffic jam, she was pretty certain she could find the rest of his group. She would bring Laurie back with her and give the others directions.

Annie spent the day in the gazebo alone. She didn't have lunch with the others and tried to convince herself that she wasn't worried.

But when the sun started to go down, she couldn't deny it any longer. It was too much like what happened to Mike and she couldn't do that again. She could have crawled to the school and back by now – unless something had gone wrong.

She went into the house to find out what the others were thinking – if maybe someone should try to go after them. Rick and Laurie stood close together just off the side of the porch and she heard Rick say, "If Shane said he'd be back, he'll be back." Annie envied Laurie fiercely at that moment. She could reach out to her husband to hold her and not be afraid of that. She missed Mike so much!

Patricia was not thinking about dinner tonight. Everyone was on their own until she had her Otis back. The whole house was under a blanket of heaviness. When people spoke, it was only in a whisper.

That made the crunch of gravel seem even louder in the dark. To a person, they rushed outside to see.

As it approached, Annie could see only one person in the cab of the truck. The person was not over large. Shane was driving and unless Otis was in the bed of the truck, Shane was alone. How could she be happy to see him when it would mean devastating news for Patricia?

Shane stopped as close to the house as he could. He seemed to half fall out of the truck and then limped heavily to the back. He lifted the two heavy packs of equipment and passed them to Hershel and Maggie. They took the packs and hurried inside, anxious to get to work on Carl. Michael led Patricia back into the house – it was clear from the look on Shane's face that Otis would not be coming back.

Annie stood back in the shadows as Rick approached Shane. He could see more than anyone how disturbed Shane was.

Rick clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him. He asked, "Otis?"

Shane's eyes darted from side to side, he was breathing hard, his clothes covered in blood. He seemed to be in his own private hell.

He shook his head at Rick's question. "We were down to one shot each. He told me to go on," Shane said grimly, "He said he would take the rear. When I looked back… I couldn't help him…"

Rick swallowed hard, feeling his friend's pain. He embraced him tightly and then turned and ran towards the house.

Shane dragged his hand through his hair, turning in a circle as if he didn't know what to do with himself. Or didn't know how to shut off images in his mind.

Annie stepped out of the shadows towards him. "You're hurt," she observed.

The intrusion startled him and he jumped. "I fell out of a window."

"I'm sorry," she said. "C'mon, I'll help you."

She pulled his arm around her shoulder and he leaned heavily on her. With a gasp, she saw a raw spot on the side of his head.

"Did you get bit?" she whispered fearfully.

He put his hand over the spot, wincing. "No, one of them just grabbed me. That's why I fell out the window."

She sighed, not sure why he felt he had to cover it up. But from what she saw, it didn't look like a bite, just like a handful of hair had been ripped out.

"You came back," she pointed out.

"Yeah," he said, "I promised." She thought she detected a very slight tone of disgust in his voice and it confused her even more.

Maggie met them inside the foyer. She held out a stack of clean clothes.

"Shower's upstairs. These are clean but may be big. They were his." Her eyes were red-rimmed, clearly she'd been crying.

"Thank you," he said solemnly. He pulled out from under Annie's arms and without another word, hobbled up the stairs alone.

Annie watched him until he turned the corner. Something he'd seen had gutted him to the core – that was very apparent to someone who was familiar with that feeling. Could she reach him the way he'd reached her? She had to check her feelings to see how much of her motivations were selfish. She'd opened up to him, she looked forward to more, but the way he was now, it was clear that wasn't about to happen. But she honestly didn't want him to lose himself this way.

She waited in the living room for what seemed like a very long time. While the others worried over Carl's surgery or Patricia's grief, she was the only one worried over Shane.

When an hour and a half had passed, Hershel finished up with Carl. She heard him say he'd gotten all the bullet fragments and it seemed the bleeding had finally stopped. His blood pressure was normal and color was beginning to return to his skin. It was time to go upstairs and at least let Shane know that no matter what, he'd saved the child's life.

The bathroom door was open and the light was off. Annie frowned, but as she passed her own dark room, she saw a silhouette sitting unmoving on her bed.

Without turning on the light, she went in and closed the door behind her. Moonlight streamed through the gauzy curtains and as she sat beside him, she could see that he'd cut all his hair off. The spot that had been ripped out wouldn't be obvious this way.

"What really happened, Shane?" she asked quietly.

"I told you what happened," he said without conviction.

"I know what you said, but I know what hiding a secret looks like."

He should have reacted angrily, should have pulled away from her, but instead, his voice grew even quieter.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"No," she said, resting her hand on his back, "I'm calling you a bad liar. At least when I had a secret, I kept my mouth closed."

For a long time, he didn't respond. He'd come in here in the dark to wait on her for a reason. He wanted to tell someone something very badly and he didn't think he could trust his friends.

"If I tell you, I'm afraid you'll never speak to me again. I'm afraid you'll tell the others and they'll…well…they'll know what kind of person I really am. Once I thought I wanted to go off on my own, but I don't – really I don't want to be alone like that. If I tell you, you won't ever feel safe around me again." He laughed bitterly. "You'll take back that part about me making people feel safe."

"You didn't tell anyone my secret," she pointed out. "Why would I do any different?"

He shook his head and dropped it low into his hands. "Because mine's a lot worse."

"Than killing your own child?"

In an angry tone, he turned to her, "I told you that wasn't what you did! No one would ever see it like that!"

"Then maybe you're not looking at what you did objectively either."

Shane stood up and began to pace back and forth, wrestling with himself. Eventually, he stopped and squatted in front of her.

"I slept with my best friend's wife," he said. "Did you expect I would say that?"

It was a rhetoric question, and he continued immediately. "I was at the hospital with Rick when things went to hell. He'd been shot while we were on duty – weird that it was almost in the exact same spot as Carl but on the other side, where his heart is. He was in a coma, on a respirator. The hospital was overrun, the army was in there shooting people left and right. Then the power went out, even the generator."

His words were frantic, as if he were trying to convince himself even more than her.

"I checked, I couldn't find a pulse or hear any breath. He was dead, I know he was dead! I left. I tried to wedge his door shut so they wouldn't get to his body. And I just left him. I got Laurie and Carl and we got the hell out of the city. Laurie was scared, damn, I was scared! We had been friends for so long that it just seemed to happen naturally. We turned to each other for comfort. We didn't let anyone know though, not even Carl."

"I took care of them like they were my own. I missed Rick so bad, we'd been partners for so long, I would have taken care of them for him, but here I was screwing his wife. Three weeks later, he walked into our camp. Laurie acted like I'd lied to her. I didn't tell Rick, I just fell in line with the rest of them. I swear, I thought he was dead."

The light shone on his face and she could see his eyes were wet. There was nothing but sincerity and pain in them.

"You saved his life," she told him.

"Huh?" he seemed angry as if she'd missed the whole point. He stood and turned away.

"When you blocked his door so they couldn't get to him. They would have killed him in his sleep, but that one caring gesture gave him the chance to heal and wake up."

Shane turned back slowly. "I never looked at it that way."

"That's what I was talking about. Would you have slept with her if he'd been alive?"

"Hell no, I wouldn't have done that behind his back! I was the best man at his wedding. I've been around them for years and the thought to do that never crossed my mind! I mean, I loved her and Carl, but because they were like family to me."

"Then who could blame you?"

Another bitter laugh. "Laurie did."

"She did that because she felt guilty. If she could shift all the blame to you, it would ease her conscience."

Shane was quiet, mulling this over. It made perfect sense. What a fucking hypocrite! But what he'd done later brought him back to his guilt.

"I got drunk two weeks ago and tried to get her to be with me again."

That made it a bit more difficult to rationalize.

"Did she?"

"She stopped me. I tried to apologize the next day when I sobered up, but she told me to stay away from her and her family."

Annie sighed. That he was troubled about having tried was at least redeeming. Laurie had used him for comfort and then tossed him away like a dirty tissue. When he needed it, there was no one there for him. It would be hard to see this woman in a good light.

"Did you feel that if you saved her son at any cost, it would make it right between you all again?" she asked.

How could she see this deeply into him when she hardly knew him.

"Don't hate me," he pleaded. "If I tell you everything, don't hate me. Our group will be leaving as soon as Carl can travel, so if you have to, just avoid me quietly until then, just don't hate me."

"Just tell me."

"We were pinned down in the gym, high up on the bleachers. There was a window that I could go through but Otis was too big. I covered him while he escaped to the locker room where he could get out a larger window. I went out the small one and found a two-story drop. I was trying to lower myself down when one of them grabbed me through the window."

Just rechecking the possibility of a bite, she asked, "That's when it grabbed your hair?"

Shane shook his head. "No. I lied about that. I shot it and lost my grip. I fell and sprained my ankle. I couldn't get away fast enough and Otis came out of the blue and shot one just before it got me in my blind spot. I told him then to take both packs and get back to the truck, that I couldn't run fast enough to get away from them, but he wouldn't leave me."

He slammed his fist against the wall then pressed his head against it. "If only he'd left me then…"

Annie swallowed hard, hoping she was strong enough to hear this. He'd been willing to die then.

"He wouldn't leave me, so he put his arm around me and helped me run. There were so many of them. We fired and fired until we were both down to one shot. I was running on my own then, but moving too slow. Otis was barely able to run anymore, you know how big he was. He was carrying one of the packs and helping me. He was panting like a freight train. I kept worrying he was going to have a heart attack right then."

She began to see it clearly now. "So you both were about to be caught?"

Shane turned quickly and knelt before her again, putting his hands on her forearms. He was hopeful, suddenly glad that someone saw the situation as he had.

"Right! And if we both were killed, Carl would've died too. Rick and Laurie would have been devastated. And no matter what I wanted to do for Laurie, I didn't want Rick to have to go through that. And hell! I love that kid too!"

Annie reached out and gently brushed his cheek. "You don't have to convince me," she said softly.

"If I had a little more time, I could make it to the truck, even carrying both packs. Even if Otis had that same amount of time, he would never have made it. He was about to drop anyhow and taking on the weight of my pack would have brought him down."

Then Shane stopped speaking. It seemed that he was reliving those few minutes in his head, trying to figure out how to say it out loud. Finally, Annie prompted him. "Go on, finish."

He looked at her, wishing he could see her eyes, but what little light there was came from behind her. What would she do if he went on and told her?

"Don't stop here," she told him. "Don't bury it."

He grimaced and threw his head back. "I told him I was sorry," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "He kinda nodded, thinking I meant that I was sorry we were in that situation, but that wasn't it." Shane gritted his teeth and covered his eyes with one hand. "I used my last bullet and shot him in the leg."

"Oh… oh, Shane…" she cried out, having suspected something like this but praying she was wrong. She clapped her hand over her own mouth in shock, trying to pull her emotions in. She understood perfectly why he felt he had to do that but hearing it didn't make it any more palatable.

"Oh, Shane," tears ran down her cheeks for both the men.

"I'm not sure that's even the worst of it," he told her, falling back heavily to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"I had to get his pack quickly because the horde was coming right up on us. He fought me. He tried to hold on to the pack for some reason, tried to hold my ankle, then he grabbed me by the hair. I fell down, trying to crawl away because they were just a couple of feet away. I kicked him – in the hand, in the head. I punched him to get away. Then they got him." He sighed and she was glad she couldn't see the pictures in his head.

"You know when they catch a live one, how they all fall on it? They forgot all about me while they ripped him to pieces. I got up, got both packs and started running again. I could hear him screaming even as I got in the truck but by then I couldn't save him."

"If you'd shot him in the head, they would have passed his dead body and kept coming after you," she added.

He nodded, looking down at the floor. "And I could have never outrun them."

"Then what other choice did you have?" she asked slowly, hardly believing she could say that herself. But she meant it. She only wondered if she would have had enough guts to make that same decision.

"That's why you make people feel safe. You can make the kind of decisions that others can't, or won't make."

"Please don't tell them," he looked up with such fear and self-loathing in his eyes. "They would not see it that way."

"Some of them might, some of them might not, but I'm not going to tell anyone."

Shane nodded. "Thank you."

She smiled a very sad smile. "Thank you for trusting me. And you did save Carl's life. I heard them talking before I came up here. The surgery went fine, he's already showing signs of improvement."

Shane leaned over and put his head on the floor – she could barely hear him crying softly. With relief? Annie slid off the bed and sat before him, her hand on his head. The fresh crew cut was prickly beneath her fingers.

"How many lives is that now, Shane? Rick, Carl, possibly Laurie because you didn't leave her behind. And me. And you. You're five to one to the good."

He surprised her by rushing forward and putting his arms around her waist, burying his face in her lap. Just like she'd done, he let it out and cried until his chest hurt.

Long minutes later, there was a quiet tapping at her door. She didn't think he'd appreciate visitors, so she didn't speak for him. But the door opened anyhow.

Rick and Laurie stood there, illuminated by the hallway light, their faces worn, weary, tear-stained, but peaceful.

Before they realized Shane's state, Rick began, "We just wanted to thank…" he paused and looked questioning and concerned.

Annie patted Shane's head softly.

"Survivor's guilt," she explained.

THE END

18


	2. Chapter 2

Secrets – Chapter Two

When Annie woke up the next morning, she was alone. Shane had been with her when she fell asleep – in fact, he'd fallen asleep first. She had been propped up against the headboard and his head was on her stomach. They'd lain in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, simply glad for human contact. Whether he'd left right after she'd closed her eyes or right before she'd opened them, she had no way to know.

Was she getting too close to him too fast? The situation was perfect for leaping without looking, but that rarely ended well. Was this one of those moral things that couldn't be held to the same set of standards as before? It wasn't like he could sleep with her then promise to call.

Something tickled the edge of her mind for a few minutes before it became clear. Traffic. It was such a normal sound that it hadn't registered until it became clear how un-normal it was now. Not many vehicles, but more than one, were coming down the dirt road that ran by the farm. She jumped up and ran to the window. It had to be the rest of Shane's group.

A rickety old RV threw up a cloud of dust at the rear of the trio. A motorcycle led the way – ape-hangers, those handlebars were called. A ragged young man in a dirty, cut-off shirt seemed perfectly at home on it. A pale green SUV was behind him but the windows were too dark to see who was driving.

Everyone slowly spilled out of the house and off the porch to greet the newcomers.

Annie quickly pulled on jeans and a sweater, ran a brush through her hair, and hurried barefoot down the stairs. She was the last one out and surprised to find herself actually excited about meeting new people.

An older, bearded man was embracing Rick warmly. A thin woman with no more hair than Shane hugged Lori with tears in her sad eyes. Annie guessed she must be the one whose daughter was missing. Shane stood off to one side on the grass, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. He seemed like a neglected little boy, wearing overalls four sizes too big for him. He gave a wan smile when Annie appeared.

"Shane saved his life," Rick was saying to the others. Lori only looked down at the ground as if she was reluctant to give him any recognition at all.

Shane just fidgeted and shook his head. The older man looked at Shane narrowly. Annie didn't know that he was confused because he was only familiar with Shane's usual cocky, arrogant manner. Annie slipped over to the other side of the porch to stand behind Shane. It was almost as if she felt like he needed to be defended.

Rick took the lead and introduced his group to Hershel's. Annie smiled slightly when he pointed to her.

The gristly man on the motorcycle was Daryl. She thought she would probably like him – he seemed blunt and down-to-earth and there was intelligence in his eyes. Intelligence from experience, not from books.

The older man, Dale, also seemed approachable, like a favorite grandpa. His eyes were warm and honest and sparkled with humor.

She tried not to make any snap judgments on the others although something made her take an immediate aversion to the blonde woman.

Hershel requested the newcomers join his group for a short memorial service for Otis. Rick quickly explained that the man had given his life the night before in the effort to procure the equipment needed to save Carl. Everyone was more than willing but Shane's face went ashen. He limped painfully around the yard on his ankle as they gathered rocks in a wheelbarrow to build a cairn for the deceased.

They chose a spot across the road from the house under a copse of shady trees. As they all stood in a large circle, Hershel spoke and then asked Shane unexpectedly if he would speak for Otis.

Annie could feel Shane's anguish – here he stood wearing the dead man's clothes, knowing he had been the cause of this whole situation. Without meeting anyone's eye, Shane shook his head and said, "I'm not good at it."

Then Otis' widow Patricia – with tears running down her face – begged him to tell them about his final minutes.

Shane was silent for a moment, all eyes on him. He slowly began to speak, explaining how Otis had sacrificed himself to save Shane and the boy. As Shane added the last rock to the cairn, he said, "If any death ever had meaning, it was his." Then he limped back to stand very close to Annie. She put her arm around his waist and squeezed him reassuringly. She missed the suspicious look that Dale sent his way.

As all the others turned away, Shane turned to her, rubbing his head with both hands in misery. "That was the hardest thing I ever did," he admitted.

"You chose the right words," she said. "Patricia needed to hear those."

"I can't get this out of my head!" he hissed, his eyes wide and manic. "And these don't help!" he tugged on the bib of the overalls.

He did look almost comical in them at best, but knowing the whole story made it more than a little morbid.

"Are your things with them?" she asked, gesturing to the newly-arrived vehicles.

"Yeah, they are!" he cheered up immediately and set off at a fast limp to the Murano. "I'm glad someone brought this," he told her as she followed. "I got it ready because I was about to take off on my own before Sophia went missing."

"I'm glad that you didn't," she whispered so quietly that he didn't hear.

After digging through a large suitcase in back, he asked, "Will you take these back to Patricia when I change? I just can't face her again. I know I'm a coward but…"

"Yes, I will," Annie agreed.

She followed him into the RV, feeling awkward as if she were intruding into someone's living room uninvited. The sad lady sat at the table.

"Carol, this is Annie," Shane said. "Annie, this is the lady I told you about, Sophia's mom."

Annie was nervous but she smiled sincerely and went to take Carol's hand. She didn't know where this deep compassion that she felt was coming from – maybe just the hope that Carol would not meet the same fate she had.

Shane went in back to change and Annie sat across from Carol.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I know you don't know me, but I'd really like to help look for your little girl too." It was very difficult to say, but Annie added, "I lost my daughter Lucy two weeks ago."

Carol's eyes – so accustomed now to tearing up – did it again. Both women stood and embraced each other, words unnecessary, and bonded in a way the others could not understand. When Shane came out, they were sitting across the table from each other holding hands tightly.

"In the other life, I was a psychologist," Annie revealed, "But it hasn't helped me much at all dealing with this. If you want to talk, just find me, I'll listen."

Carol smiled through tears and thanked her.

Shane thought that revelation explained a lot. He smiled and shook his head, putting the folded overalls and flannel shirt on the table. He was dressed now in tan tactical cargo pants and a black t-shirt, looking far more comfortable than before. He sat on the couch and started pulling on combat boots, tucking the pants in military-style.

"I'll go take these back now," Annie stood, not dragging out a goodbye.

"I'll be out in a few," Shane called after her.

The screen slammed shut behind Annie and Carol dried her eyes, turning to Shane. He was already a hero to her, having stopped her husband from beating her.

"She's very sweet," Carol said.

Shane turned to look out the door, watching Annie walk away. "Yeah," he agreed. "She's great. She helped me a lot. And she's stronger than she looks."

Carol smiled. Shane liked Annie a lot more than he was saying.

Annie followed the faint path from the area they'd set up camp towards the big farm house. Lori met her halfway. They nodded at each other but didn't speak. Annie felt hostility but wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve it.

Shane stepped out of the RV just as Lori reached it.

"Saw your little puppy following you around all morning," she snapped.

Shane's first thought was to slap her across the mouth, but self-control was still the best choice for now.

"Grow up, Lori," he said, not even bothering to stop and look at her.

Lori slammed the door shut behind her and dropped into the seat Annie had vacated.

"What's wrong?" Carol asked. Lori was her closest friend and Carol despised any kind of conflict.

Shaking her head, Lori gestured to the door. "I don't like that little blonde girl. I don't trust her."

"Oh, she was very nice," Carol said automatically. "She asked if she could help look for Sophia. You just need to spend a little time getting to know her."

Lori only glared.

They had pretended like no one knew, but every member of the group except Rick himself knew that Lori had been much closer to Shane than just friendship at the beginning of their trek. Carol suspected a little jealousy on Lori's part but she would never bring it up.

Annie went quietly to the back of the house where Otis and Patricia had stayed. She didn't mean to eavesdrop but as she approached, she heard a heated discussion. Hershel, Patricia, Maggie and Shawn were talking about Rick's group.

"They can't stay," Hershel said with finality. "We can't support them – the gas will run out and the food will run out first. As soon as the boy is well enough to travel, I told Rick they have to move on."

Maggie started to protest but her father cut her off sternly. "And you know there are other reasons, too," he added.

That didn't make sense to Annie, but the comment about running out of food did. She had not felt that she fit in here, although they had never said that specifically. But here they were having this discussion without her. Clearly they didn't see her as part of their group either. She was glad she'd taken no more food than the little bit she had. She was only a drain, contributing nothing.

Annie placed the clothes on the sideboard and crept out without making her presence known.

She felt suddenly cold, and almost faint with fear. Up until now, she'd not thought about anything but Mike and Lucy. It had not occurred to her that she was utterly on her own. No other family to call upon, no job to earn money to support herself, no place functioning where she could buy food even if she was earning money. No government programs to help as a last resort. She had to stop and catch her balance on the porch rail, the thoughts rattled her so much.

Rick's group was cooking something over a campfire that wafted on the breeze. The sun was straight overhead, it was close to lunch. Patricia would be busy in the kitchen soon. Suddenly Annie was very hungry but knew that if she wanted food, she'd have to go ask someone for it. Like a beggar. That went against every fiber in her being.

If Mike was here, there would be no need for discussion. The old defined roles would serve her well. He was the provider, she was the homemaker. Were those roles still valid? Otis and Patricia had continued that way. Clearly Rick was the head of his household. Since Hershel's wife was dead, Patricia would continue to play that role for him. What did Carol do? Or that other blonde woman?

Annie went for the solitude of the gazebo, purposefully avoiding anyone's mealtime. She had to work this out.

She could hunt and fish. Mike had taught her those things because he was such an outdoorsman. Her family hiked and camped all the time, in all seasons. Her daddy had taught her to shoot when she was a little girl, it just happened in the south like that sometimes. She could strip and clean a gun and she could use a recurve bow. Though she found it distasteful to the extreme, she could field-strip a deer to save all the meat.

As was her custom, when she was upset or worried, Annie pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them tightly, burying her head in her knees. The swing barely moved.

Maybe a quarter of an hour had passed when she heard someone clear their throat. She'd been so deep in thought that she'd not heard him approach. She jerked her head up to see who was there.

Dale said, "Hi, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," she smiled bleakly. "I was scaring myself far worse."

He laughed, "Ah, a deep thinker."

She nodded. "Far too deep sometimes."

"You're not eating?" he asked.

"I'm not hungry," she lied.

"So what's scaring you?" he continued, not really convinced. "Besides dead people walking the streets and the world as we know it having ended?"

Annie couldn't help but laugh. "You're wonderfully succinct."

Dale smiled wide. "You may be the only other person left alive who would use that word in conversation. Except maybe Glen."

She shrugged. "I like to say exactly what I mean."

"Good girl. But really, anything I can help with?"

Annie sighed. "I just don't seem to fit in anywhere. Self-pity, I guess."

"You and Shane seemed to have hit it off well."

Another shrug. "We have …things…in common," she said. "He's easy to talk to."

Dale laughed. "That's the very first time I ever heard that."

"He's different, but that's good. He's very well suited for our delightful new lives."

She questioned him about the group, how they'd all met, how long they'd all been together, what their plans were after here. When Dale admitted their ultimate destination was Ft. Benning, Annie brightened.

"Do you think everything is still okay there? Structure? Food supply? Safety?"

"Rick seemed to think that, but now I think he may want to stay here. He was going to speak to the old man about it."

"I overheard the old man vetoing that idea," she told him. "Accidentally, so don't tell anyone I said that."

It was Dale's turn to shrug. "I'd rather go on anyhow. Something doesn't feel quite right here. And with all of us, resources would dwindle fast."

"When will you leave?" she asked anxiously.

"That's a source of contention right now. How long do we wait and keep searching for the girl? Carl's recovery is keeping that question off the table right now, but it'll be a hard decision to make when the time comes."

"I'm trying to figure out what to do with myself," she disclosed. It was put out there to elicit a specific response from him. Would he bite?

"You're not staying here?"

"I'm not part of these people. Maggie found me about a week and a half ago and brought me here. I'm feeling less than welcome myself suddenly."

Dale pursed his lips. "Hence the deep thought. Why don't you come with us? I'm sure they won't mind."

"I can carry my own weight," she said hopefully – grateful that he'd taken the bait. "I can hunt and shoot."

"And get along with Shane. That puts you right up there on the short list."

"Speak of the devil," she said, nodding at someone coming up behind him.

Shane seemed like more the man she'd met the first night, though he was still limping slightly. Being with his own people had done him good.

"Ya'll talking about me?" he asked, coming to sit by Annie on the swing.

She smiled. She couldn't pretend she wasn't glad for his company. "Why? Are your ears burning?"

Dale reached out and brushed a hand over Shane's freshly-shorn head. "And those ears are sticking out all over now. What's with the new haircut, man?"

He ran a hand over the bristles. "Just needed a change."

"Annie wants to come with us when we leave," Dale said.

Shane turned to look at her in surprise. She was glad Dale had sprung it on him like this. It would give a more honest reaction.

"Good," he said, and his face showed that he really meant it. "I was hoping she would."

"But what about the others?" she asked, not mentioning any names, but knowing that Lori would have a big influence on her husband's decision.

"Well, Carol loves you to death," Shane answered, "And Rick likes you. And I like you."

"You have my vote," Dale said. To Shane, "She uses big words. I like that."

"Let's go find out," Shane suggested, pushing off the swing.

"_**You**_ go find out," she told him. "I don't need to be there when you talk about me. You can let me know later." She got up and headed back towards the house.

Dale watched Shane watching Annie. It was the same way he used to watch Lori before Rick came back to life. This was a much healthier choice, in his opinion.

"She's got a mind of her own," Dale said. "You like her."

Without looking away from her, Shane said, "Yeah, I like her."

Dale wondered how far that relationship had already developed, how far it would go, and how explosively it might end.

"You don't think anyone will object to her coming, do you?" Shane asked as they walked back to the camp.

"No," Lori said. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" Rick asked. "She's been nothing but nice while we've been here. Carol really likes her. Dale's got a good feeling about her. And Shane's obviously smitten…"

Shane glared at his friend.

"We don't have the room," Lori said. "It's hard enough to provide for all of us anyhow."

"We've lost four people since we started out together," Shane pointed out, strategically not adding Sophia to that number. "Adding one back won't hurt us. And she can use a gun. That'll help."

Still Lori was against it.

"Those aren't valid reasons," Rick pointed out to his wife. Frankly, he was glad to see someone that seemed to take an interest in Shane that Shane seemed happy to reciprocate. He loved Shane like a brother and hated that sometimes he felt like a third wheel.

"She's just using Shane," Lori protested.

"Using me for what?" Shane demanded.

"It was Shane crying in her lap last night when we walked in, not the other way around," Rick reminded her.

Lori stood up and stalked away towards their tent. "I just don't trust her!" she shouted, hoping the little slut could hear. "And I don't like it at all!"

Only Glen was tactless enough to say what everyone else was thinking.

"I believe she means 'I don't like _her_ at all'."

"I think you're right," Daryl said. He had only just recently begun to think of himself as part of the group. The girl was easy on the eyes, that was a bonus. From what he'd seen of her, she was quiet, and that was more than could be said for two of the women already part of this group.

Lori lost.

Later in the afternoon, Annie came back outside. She heard a lot of yelling in the distance and vaguely wondered if it had to do with her. It took a few minutes before she located the group off to the east near a well.

A horrible smell hit her as she drew closer to them. Only when she was right up on it did she realize they stood over the upper half of a bloated, pale walker. A rope was still tied around under its arms. It quickly became clear that they'd tried to pull it out of the well and the weight of its water-logged lower half had pulled it in two. She covered her nose with her arm, noticing the variety of looks on their faces. Except Maggie – her back was to the rest of them while she threw up.

"Ewww," she grimaced as Shane approached her, wiping his hands on his pants. "I'm sure this started out as a good idea."

He grinned sheepishly. "So we thought."

Tyrese finished the squirming thing off with a heavy metal pipe, blood spraying in wide arcs.

Annie shuddered, thinking of her daughter. At least no one would ever have to do that to her. But then something else also became very clear to her. Her whole demeanor changed suddenly and Shane reached out and took her elbow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head, not sure if she wanted to share this with anyone or not. It was clearly not for the others in any case. "It's just something I have to do," she said, distracted.

"Need some help?" he asked, turning to look over his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure we've done enough damage here."

Annie looked at him deeply, eye to eye. She felt she could trust him to help her, but she still wasn't sure she could trust herself with him, especially in what she needed to do. She stepped back mentally and tried to examine the logistics of the situation. He could lift more than she could. He could act as a lookout while she was otherwise occupied. He might prevent her from putting a gun in her mouth if that idea came up again.

"What is it, Annie?" he asked, now more concerned. Sometimes she was completely unreadable, and although that was intriguing, it was equally disturbing.

"I'm going to bury my family," she told him quietly.

Still holding her arm, he led her further away from the others. From the look on his face, he obviously didn't think it was a very good idea.

"You don't want to do that," he told her. "There's no need to put yourself through that. Besides, it could be dangerous, depending on how close to town your house is."

"I do want to do that," she replied, angry at his presumption and just as much determined.

"I didn't ask for your help, you volunteered."

There clearly would be no changing her mind – she would go off alone if that was her only choice. He couldn't let her do that.

"Alright, alright. I'll go with you. I'll drive you."

Annie had thought to borrow a horse to keep the noise at a minimum but if he was joining her, she could risk it. There were things she wanted to bring back with her anyway.

"Now?" she clarified.

He nodded. "Yeah. We put off looking for the girl for a day of recuperating. I'm supposed to stay off this ankle but I can't just sit around doing nothing."

"You can sit down at my house," she told him, "I'll take care of everything else."

"I'll be fine. Do we need to take anything?"

She looked pointedly at the gun in his holster and showed him that she had her's. "There are tools at my house. I'm ready."

"We're running an errand," Shane told Dale as they passed. "We'll be back before dark."

He had to convince Dale that they would be safe enough without telling him where they were going.

Shane had taken the time days ago to clean out the Murano. As she got in the passenger seat, she realized it had been nearly a month since she had ridden in a car. This seemed so stupidly normal that it felt strange.

Her address was about seven miles from the farm. As the surroundings became more familiar, Annie's stomach began to churn. The town was completely deserted, there were random bodies in yards along the way but they saw no moving walkers.

"Turn right, up there," she whispered, suddenly beginning to wonder if this had really been such a good idea after all.

Shane reached out and squeezed her hand. He was afraid she would pull away but she held his tightly. They must be getting close.

The houses here were standard middle-class vinyl-sided homes, not old, not brand new. The yards, once neatly mowed and weeded, were all ragged and overgrown. One house had burned. It had been a good neighborhood; the lots were large where each family had plenty of room for their kids to play. Annie had known all the families in the houses they passed. They were all long dead.

"That one," she pointed at a yellow and white one. It was a one-story with a double garage and a deep porch with wicker furniture neatly arranged on it.

Annie slid forward in the seat as Shane pulled into the driveway. She knew where Mike's body had fallen but in the thick grass, it wasn't visible from the vehicle.

Shane stopped and turned sideways to study her. Could she go through with this?

"You okay?" he asked.

She looked out the window at her former home and shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

"Maybe you shouldn't…"

"But I'm going to," she cut him off. Maybe this was why she'd needed him to come – to tell her she shouldn't do it just so she would. Annie opened the door and got out, forcing herself to pretend that what she was going to see was not real. They were dolls, mannequins. Pretend. She was in a cheap zombie movie and after this scene was over, someone would yell "cut" and she could go home.

She went to the spot where she'd shot her husband. Shane jumped out to follow but it was clear that she wanted to do this on her own. He didn't go to her, instead, leaned on the bumper, crossing his arms, pursing his lips, wishing they were anywhere else. Especially when he saw legs in blue jeans in the deep grass.

There he was, Annie thought when she reached the body. It had lain in the sun and rain for almost two weeks. Animals had gotten to it but it didn't smell as bad as she'd expected. Before they'd lost the TV signal, doctors had said that whatever this virus was seemed to slow the decay of dead tissue.

If she'd not known it was Mike, she would not have recognized him. Except for his clothes and that scratched-up wedding ring, identical to the one on her left hand.

Memories of their years together tried to flood in but she knew if she let them, she'd lose her mind. That could not happen, not now, maybe not ever. She slammed that iron door shut, locked it, and swallowed the key.

"I hope you didn't suffer, hon," she said, then rose, a little unsteady on her feet.

Shane didn't speak as she approached him, he only watched her.

"There's enough left to bury," was all she said. She opened the garage door, passed the blue Toyota inside, and came back with a shovel.

He caught up with her. "Can I help dig?"

She shrugged. "There's another shovel in there."

As he hurried to find it, she went to a big oak tree in the center of the front yard and began to draw off a large rectangle with the business end of her shovel. Then she started to dig.

Shane joined her and they dug silently for half an hour before she spoke.

"We planted this tree the day we moved in," she said, her voice wistful. "I didn't realize it had grown so big."

When the hole – she couldn't even think the word "grave" – was large enough, she leaned heavily on the shovel and wiped her sweating face with the hem of her shirt.

"I figure I'll get the comforter off our bed and roll him onto it, then wrap him up. I can drag him over here." It was almost as if she was speaking to herself.

"How 'bout we wrap him up and both take an end and carry him over here?" Shane suggested.

Without looking at him, she nodded absently. He thought maybe she was hanging on by the tiniest thread. Seeing her daughter would probably snap that.

After a very short break, she dropped the shovel and went to the front door. It had remained unlocked.

The air had not circulated in the house and the smell in here was pretty bad. Annie hardly seemed to notice. She set her face in a grim expression and headed down the long hallway to the back of the house. Shane followed but stayed at the door when she entered the bedroom.

Strangely enough, Lucy's small body was wrapped neatly and tightly in a shroud made of the bed sheet. Annie didn't know if she'd done it and not remembered or maybe Maggie had done it out of respect when she'd first stumbled over Annie. Either way, Annie breathed a sigh of relief.

"Somebody wrapped her up," she said softly. Shane took this as an invitation to enter her world again. He came up behind her, wishing she would let him put his arms around her, but he knew if he tried, it might break the fragile shell she'd pulled around herself in order to get this done.

"This is…" she couldn't bring herself to say 'was', "my baby. My Lucy." She pointed to a large framed picture over the bed. A pretty blonde girl in a red velvet Christmas dress smiled happily for the camera.

"She's beautiful, Annie," Shane said. He could see the muscles in Annie's jaw working, fighting what he knew she must be thinking.

"Do you think she's okay now?" she turned and looked up at him, more small and helpless than he'd ever seen her.

"I was raised believing in heaven and hell. I got no doubts she's in heaven and she's fine, happy, peaceful, safe. You'll see her again."

Annie's voice cracked when she spoke again. "Do you think she knows that I was … that I … what I did to her?"

He did put his arms around her now and pulled her head down against his chest. Every muscle in her body was hard as steel and she clutched at her own self-control.

"No, you know she was gone before you… you know that wasn't her. She's fine. She went to sleep in your arms and she woke up in heaven. Believe that."

Annie pushed away from him, trembling and nodding, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug bloody crescents in her palms.

"Can I carry her out for you?" he asked. He didn't see how she'd be able to physically do that right now.

Annie had wanted to hold Lucy just once more, but it was easier to believe she was gone away to a better place if she didn't touch her. She nodded. "Please."

With utmost tenderness, Shane slid an arm under the child's knees and neck, gently cradling her like he knew Annie would have if she could. She walked beside him, her hand on his arm, all the way out to the tree, bringing the comforter with them.

"Just put her here for now," she motioned to a soft patch of grass. "I want Mike in first."

When they approached her husband, Annie said, "Shane, meet Mike."

"I wish it could have been under better circumstances, buddy," Shane said to the body.

Annie smiled though her cheeks were wet.

Since she'd relented and accepted his help, they worked together and got Mike bundled up quickly. It did seem more respectful to carry him than drag him. He fit snugly in the grave and Shane carefully placed Lucy beside him, as if she was lying in her daddy's arms.

Annie sat down on the edge of the grave and stared at the two bundles. Her greatest desire at the moment was to crawl in with them and never move again. In fact, she didn't think she could move, even if she tried. It was the same feeling of giving up that she'd had two weeks ago.

"I can't just leave them," she said.

"They would not want you to give up," he said, his hands on her shoulders.

He didn't know them, but it was true. She knew they had loved her and only wanted her to be okay in any situation.

"I miss them," she whispered.

"I'm sure you do. Why don't you tell them goodbye, then go inside, and I'll finish up out here. Gather yourself some clothes."

She looked up at Shane with nothing but gratitude. There was no way she could throw dirt on them. She nodded.

He squeezed her shoulders again. "I'll give you a few minutes." He stepped away discreetly, taking a look at what kind of useful things she might have in the garage. He could hear her talking, but couldn't make out the words. Suddenly he wished he'd taken her gun. He tried to watch her without her noticing.

"I love you guys," she said, reaching in to brush a stray leaf off Lucy's sheet. "If I could be with you, I would. I miss you so much."

She fell silent. What else could she possibly say? If they were alive, she could think of a million things. But not like this.

Annie stood and took one last look. "Sleep peacefully." Then she went to the house, nodding briefly at Shane as she passed.

Inside, all she really wanted to do was lie down and sleep until the horror went away. She didn't think that even Rip Van Winkle could sleep that long. No one had yelled "cut" when she was done. It didn't seem fair. Instead of allowing herself to grind to a halt, she got busy packing some clothes in a big duffel bag, studiously ignoring the big brown stain on her bed.

She packed another large bag in the kitchen with cans, bags, and unopened boxes of food. She took a large, resealable plastic freezer bag and stuffed it with pictures of Mike, Lucy, a family portrait, her parent's, her sister, and a couple of close friends. All dead and gone now. She folded Lucy's birth certificate and her marriage license and sealed them inside. Shane finished and came in just as she stuffed the bag into her duffel.

"Do you need any clothes?" she asked, her voice still hushed but returning to normal. "You and Mike were about the same size."

He took a smaller bag and put a few things in it for himself – Mike had sturdy hunting clothes that would serve him well.

"I noticed you have camping gear in the garage," he said.

"Oh yeah," she suddenly remembered something back in her bedroom. She came out with a small key and went through the dining room to the garage. The key fit a metal gun cabinet. Mike had a shotgun, a couple of rifles and two more pistols inside, along with an ample supply of ammo for each one. They filled another bag and Shane gathered up the tent, two sleeping bags, a couple of folding chairs, and some lanterns. Along with the food and clothes, they almost filled up the cargo area of the Murano.

Annie had purposefully avoided looking towards the small mound she knew she would see under the oak tree, but as she started to get in the vehicle, she turned a last time.

She didn't know how he'd done it so quickly but Shane had taken four of the pickets from the fence around her flower garden and nailed together two white crosses on the grave, one big and one small.

Her eyes welled up with tears once more and her hand went to her mouth. She turned to look at him in amazement.

He looked down at his feet, shuffling in awkwardness.

"Thank you," she said. "You're wonderful."

Shane beamed and blushed like a child earning unexpected praise. He waited while she got in then shut the door after her.

"You made it bearable," she told him when he got in. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

As they drove back through the sad town, Annie mused, "Maybe we're actually the ones who died. The others who aren't with us anymore are at peace. We're the ones in hell."

the end

10


	3. Chapter 3

Secrets – Chapter 3

As they drove up the dirt road towards the farm in the growing twilight, Shane could see several of the others coming out to see who was arriving. He couldn't help but be taken back to the night before when he drove up in Otis' pickup alone. A chill passed over him but he shook it off. When they realized who it was, the others turned back, curiosity assuaged.

When he stopped, Annie made no move to get out. Shane turned to her.

"Are you doing okay?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "I think I will be. I feel like something rolled over inside me. Like I'm a different person, and this is a different life. Everything that has happened, happened to someone else."

He seconded that. "I think that's about the only way we can survive."

Rick gave Shane a short sermon about going off like that without telling anyone where he was going. Annie started unloading the vehicle and then they worked together to put the tent up.

"Moving in?" Dale asked her as he passed.

She shrugged. "I guess I might as well get used to it."

She helped Shane pin it down and they put in the supplies she'd brought from home. She wondered what was going on his mind – what he was expecting her to be now. This was vaguely like moving in together. Annie hoped that was not the case, but if she wanted to cut off his expectations, she'd have to quit sleeping in his arms. She really didn't want to do that, though, no matter how unfair it seemed.

After a strained dinner with Hershel's group – Rick and Shane had taken opposite views of the continuing search for Sophia and everyone was pretty ticked off at Andrea for shooting Daryl – they returned to their camp. It was strange going to bed at dark and getting up with the sun. Her great grandmother used to tell her stories about growing up "in the country", having no lights and no running water when she was a little girl. When she thought about it, that was probably the way most people had done it throughout history. Society had taken one giant step backwards.

Annie crawled into the tent, propping the flashlight on her pillow. She dug through her bag and pulled out a sweat suit she'd brought to sleep in. Moving out of the farmhouse would make her lament regular showers.

Just as she stood up and unbuttoned her jeans, Shane unzipped the tent and stepped in. He had his own flashlight and shone it on her just as she slid her pants down.

"Oh, sorry," he said awkwardly, clicking off his light. Hers illuminated her from behind.

"Uh…" she said, not really knowing what to say.

"You want me to wait outside till you're done?" he asked.

Several things passed through her mind then. Number one, he obviously expected them to keep sharing a bed. Number two, something would have to be settled quickly. And number three, hell, they were both adults.

"It's okay," she answered nervously. "We're both grownups and I, for one, am not a virgin."

Shane laughed and went about his business, finding something comfortable to sleep in too. Annie hoped he had not taken that virgin comment as an invitation for something more. She made a point of changing quickly with her back to him and climbing into her own sleeping bag.

"We could zip them together and it would be warmer," he suggested.

"It would," she agreed, wondering if he could see her eyes in this dim light. "But I feel like I'm being a tease when we do that."

"When we sleep together?"

She nodded.

"I ain't pushing you," he said. "I thought you liked it."

"I do like it!" she exclaimed, "Very much. I look forward to it, but I still feel like a tease because I am not giving you anything in return."

"Did I ask you for anything?" he asked, sitting beside her.

Had she leaped to conclusions? Maybe he wasn't even interested in her "that" way.

"Well, no," she answered.

"Then quit beating yourself up and unzip your bag." There was no anger or frustration in his voice, so she accepted him at face value and unzipped.

Despite going to bed earlier, it was still in their nature not to fall asleep right away. They lay facing each other in the dark, talking about the evening.

"I can't believe that bitch shot Daryl," Shane said. "I'm just glad her aim ain't no better. She could've killed one of us. Rick wants me to start training the others in the morning."

"Why you?" she asked. "Not like you aren't working your ass off already."

"I was an instructor," he told her proudly. "For the officers and for the public."

"That's a good reason then," she said.

"You want to join us? I know you can strip a gun and clean it, but everybody can use some practice."

"Okay, but just a few shots. I don't want to waste the ammo."

Eventually their conversation trailed off into sleep. She rolled away from him and he spooned up behind her, holding her tightly. At least this kept the nightmares at bay.

Shane was being just as well-mannered as he knew how to be, and unfortunately, being a red-blooded country boy, he was already stretched pretty thin in that area. He'd played it off, but he was really about to explode. Especially when he held her close like this, feeling that firm but soft ass pressing up against him. He growled deep in his throat in aggravation and when she stirred, he covered the sound with a fake cough.

The next morning when he woke, they were back in the spooning position. He had absolutely no control over his physical reaction – it was pretty much the same as every other morning. The only thing different this morning was the warm female flesh separated from him by a couple of thin pieces of fabric. There was an unpleasant throb in a very conspicuous area.

He wondered how deeply Annie was sleeping. He wondered how far he could go without waking her up.

Pulling her a little more tightly to him, he pressed harder. His hips began to move very slowly back and forth. Feeling more confident, he let the hand on her hip push her shirt up just a little, exposing the pale smooth skin there. As he stroked it, chill bumps rose under his fingers.

"Ooooh," he couldn't stay completely quiet as his breath came faster.

Shane moved his hand up to her neck and pulled the silky hair back from her face. Her sweet smell was like a caress in his head as he put his lips just below her ear and kissed very gently.

Suddenly he froze. Was that her pushing back against him? He paused longer and felt her hips begin to move ever so slightly. She was responding! She was going to let it happen, despite what she had said the night before.

He began to kiss her neck more passionately, his hand moving farther up underneath her shirt.

Annie moaned and reached up over her shoulder towards his face. She sighed, "Hmmm, Mike."

That went through his head like a bullet. She wasn't even fully awake! She was consenting to her husband, not to him.

As soon as her hand touched his face, she knew it was not who she thought it was.

Annie jerked her whole body away from him and turned around to face him, holding herself tightly.

Shane sat up, his face flushed guiltily. "I'm sorry," he said, but it didn't sound very sincere to her. "It was like you wanted it."

"I was asleep" she said. "I thought you were Mike!"

"Okay, okay," he held his hands up. "I misread you, that's all. I'm sorry."

She could see that although he was trying not to express it, he was very angry.

"It was what you said about moving on yesterday," he reminded her, trying to justify his actions.

"I just buried my husband yesterday!" she hissed, not wanting the others to hear. "And…and…" but she stopped herself.

"And what?" he demanded.

Annie shook her head.

"You can't just cut that off in the middle too," he said sarcastically.

That made her mad enough to say it, although in a whisper.

"I resist getting involved with you this way because of the feelings you still have for Lori."

"What the hell are you talking about? She shut me down faster than shit when Rick came back."

"Exactly," Annie continued. "If I gave in to you and my feelings, that could be something really good. But I believe that down the road, if something happened to Rick, you'd be back with her faster than I could blink."

Shane opened his mouth to say something but shut it back quickly. He pulled on his jeans, grabbed his boots and shirt, and went out, zipping the pants as he stood.

Annie took that as confirmation of her suspicions. She curled up in her sleeping bag and hugged her pillow tight, refusing to cry over this.

Shortly, after a long bit of group discussion, she heard several vehicles drive away. She heard Dale and Glenn talk briefly and then footsteps moving away. She couldn't put off going to the bathroom any longer.

When she came back to camp, Dale was at the old wooden picnic table that served as the social center. There was a pot on the open campfire. Since the air was cool this morning, she went to stand by the fire pit.

"Morning," he said. "Coffee?"

"Sure."

He pointed her to the cups and she poured herself some.

"Figured you be out shooting with everyone else," he observed.

Not sure she wanted conversation this morning, she said shortly, "I already know how to shoot."

Dale nodded as if considering something. He was actually wondering if she "knew how to shoot" the same way Andrea claimed to.

"Well?" he challenged, "Do you have a preferred weapon?"

Without speaking, she pulled the gun she carried out of her waistband and laid it on the table between them. A Springfield Armory XDm.

"Very nice," he said, picking it up to turn it over and examine it. "Can you clean it? Shane usually keeps the guns clean for us."

Annie set her coffee cup down and in five seconds, she had the gun broken down into pieces in front of him. She held up the barrel for him to see how clean it was.

"Okay," he smiled. "Point taken."

As she put it quickly and expertly back together, Dale continued. "I noticed a bit of disharmony this morning."

It appeared she was going to talk about it whether she wanted to or not.

"You might say that. Now I'm sorta back to where I was yesterday, wondering whether to stay or go."

"Anything I can help you with?" he offered.

"Just something to work out," she played it off.

"If it's got you doubting the decision you were so happy with before, it sounds like a big thing," he pushed.

Annie was quiet and pensive for a long time. She stared into the dark liquid as if looking for answers there.

Finally she spoke. "It can't be just me. I mean, the whole world turned upside down. You accept it, you deny it, or you lay down and die, right? It seems like you've accepted. Shane's accepted. Hershel is denying it at every turn. I want to accept it but its like back then, you could choose a course and be pretty certain of the consequences. Now, you can't even guess what might happen from whatever choice you make. Normal doesn't exist anymore. The world has to recalibrate itself."

Dale digested that slowly with a nod and pursed lips. "I agree with that. It puts everybody on eggshells, just when we need each other the most. I was in the military many years ago and me and Irma – she was my wife – we were stationed at a small base in Germany. It took me a long time to realize why it always felt 'prickly' there. Back home, you could choose your friends and the people you hung around. But in a foreign country, you were dropped in randomly with a small group. You make new friends; you get to view new personalities up close that you might have never been exposed to. A bunch of strangers thrown together, just trying to get by. That's what all of us are."

He was right of course. Lori and Carol were a prime example. They would have never been friends in real life, they were too different. They met at a traffic jam and just happened to survive and be running in the same direction.

"My new motto for life?" Dale declared, "Go with it or go crazy. It's not like fighting it internally is ever going to change what's going on externally."

Annie let that sink in. She remembered the feeling of something rolling over in her yesterday. She would have to embrace that and hold on to it like a pit bull. Everything else had to be sent to the back of the bus.

"Thanks, Dale," she told him. "You did help."

"Anytime." He liked her. Even though she professed to so much confusion, he felt she was one of the sanest of all of them. Pity she was mixed up with Shane.

Rick returned with the other women around lunchtime. Shane didn't return and Dale and Annie were both acutely aware that Andrea had not come back either. Annie remained silent and helped Carol get lunch but Dale went straight to Rick and inquired about their absence.

"Jimmy told us about a newer housing development not far from here. Andrea did some really good shooting today so Shane took her as backup to check it out."

Dale was on edge for the rest of the afternoon. Annie sat at the table and imagined everyone knew what had happened and what Shane was doing seemed deliberately aimed at her. After lunch, she went for a long walk alone in the woods.

She walked along the dirt road, kicking at the crunchy orange and brown leaves that flittered by her feet. Fall had always been her favorite time of year, when the leaves turned to all those beautiful colors and the sun could shine so bright but it wasn't hot enough to burn. Halloween had been her favorite holiday but when the dead people on the street were real, it kind of made celebration a bit anticlimactic.

She knew she'd been lucky in a way compared to Rick's group. They'd encountered hoards of walkers, hundreds at a time. She'd never seen more than four or five in a group. She'd killed several, but thought it must be really terrifying to have them coming after you, or to see them tear someone apart.

As she walked, she thought she could see a building through the thin trees. Maybe it was a place Maggie had yet to raid. A little further up the road, an old path seemed to lead straight out to it. The path was overgrown and completely covered with fallen leaves. Annie left the road.

It wasn't a long path and the closer she got, she could see the building was a church. The path ended at the back of an old graveyard. It was amazingly quiet and peaceful there. She had the urge to lie down in the tall, soft grass and fall asleep. Maybe thinning out the population wasn't such a bad thing.

She walked through the cemetery until the gravestones were new, up close to the building. If life had gone on as normal, she wondered where the next generation of members would have been buried.

Annie went around to the front of the small church. She'd always preferred this kind of small county church to one of those huge chrome and steel megachurches downtown. They were so impersonal, those big ones. It was like any good and holy feeling that might be there trickled through so many people that there was hardly enough left for one person to do any good.

The blood-red double doors to the church were thrown wide open. As she went up the concrete steps, the bad smell hit her. It wasn't overwhelming, having faded over some time. She hoped the sanctuary had not been messed up too badly.

Standing at the back, it seemed intact. The pews were dusty, as was the huge cross behind the pulpit, but otherwise it seemed okay. As she walked down the aisle, she found the source of the smell. Three bodies lay between the pews. At first, she wondered how they would have just died here, but then she realized that they had been killed with blows to the head. They had been here as walkers. Had they come into the church for a reason? That made her shudder, because they all believed the walkers to be mindless.

She sat down in the front pew and stared for a long time at the cross. She too had been raised in church and had never questioned the concepts of heaven and hell and salvation. If all she believed was true, then this…infection…was part of the plan? All these people who had died, all the survivors suffering beyond belief, the whole world cancelled. She tried to take comfort in her faith that a higher power had everything under control, because for the life of her, she couldn't see the sense in it.

A sound behind her made her jump up and turn. The ruined body of a tall man shuffled as fast as it was able up the aisle towards her, making a hideous gurgling sound. Two more were coming in the door; gaunt, dried up, teeth bared ferally.

"Oh crap!" she whispered, rushing towards the door she saw at the back corner behind the organ. When she got there though, she found a deadbolt lock on it – the kind that opened with a key. There was no key.

The first walker was almost within arm's reach. Annie scrambled up over the organ, slipping on the dusty keys. The thing grabbed her by the ankle.

Fear caused her to scream before she realized the sound would draw others. Shane had told her they seemed to move in packs – there was no telling how many of them were in the area.

Holding the far edge of the organ, she twisted and kicked with her other foot, dislodging the rotting jaw. Black fluid covered her shoe and she hoped she couldn't catch the infection this way. The thing kept trying to bite her foot, although now it couldn't even bring its teeth together. Had she not been struggling for her life, she might have laughed. Weird what you think of when your life flashes before your eyes. This might be a skit on Saturday Night Live when the world reasserts itself. People would cry, "Too soon!"

The strength of these things was insane! She couldn't hold herself away from it any longer and as it jerked her to the floor, she pulled out the gun and clicked off the safety in one motion. The thing dropped on her, going straight for her throat and it met the barrel of the XDm. Foul-smelling liquid and tissue splattered her, but it fell backwards.

The others were at the front of the sanctuary now, maybe eight or ten feet from her. She backed up against the door, still sitting on the floor, and braced her forearms on her knees. Two shots, two kills, so to speak. That left fourteen rounds. She prayed there were no more of them.

However, when she scrambled to her feet, there were four more coming up the center aisle.

She had to get out of this place! "Sanctuary, my ass!" she shouted in frustration. If she could just get outside, she knew she could outrun them. Annie took off down the side aisle as fast as she could move.

Two more blocked her exit. She quickly shot and shoved their bodies backwards and as they fell, she made a great leap over them. She hit the ground hard and rolled but it knocked the breath out of her. Annie struggled to her feet and saw more coming up the paved road in front of the church.

Gasping, trying to get air through the pain and fear, she took off running around to the back of the church. She had a flash of what Shane must've felt the other night as she moved into the cemetery. What would she have done if she'd landed wrong and sprained her ankle? She had no sacrifice.

Just as she reached the tree line, her diaphragm unfroze and she was able to gulp in huge blasts of fresh air. It then occurred to her that she couldn't lead them back to the others at the farm. She had to do something to draw them off.

Quickly, she dropped behind the closest gravestone. She risked a glance behind her and saw that only three of them had followed her up the hill. The ground was uneven and the markers, walls, and small fences around the plots had slowed them considerably. They had lost sight of her when she hid, and for them, it was "out of sight, out of mind". She had the gore from the first one all over her so she figured it covered her usual scent well enough.

Hardly drawing breath, she waited until she couldn't hear them anymore. She jumped up to move quickly to the next stone but was surprised to find one standing almost on top of her. It reached out to grab her and one hand caught her left arm. Reacting purely on instinct, she punched at the other with her hand that held the gun. It caught the thing right in the face and that gave her an idea. It was to her advantage that they walked around with their mouths open growling, because she was able to shove the gun deep into the grisly cavern and fire, using it as a muffler for the report. None of the others looked up towards her. She crouched down and, staying close to the ground, she ran quickly into the woods. She didn't stop running until she reached the farm.

Carol got her clean clothes from the tent so she wouldn't get the horrible stuff in it. She went to the farmhouse for a hot shower without even asking permission. She felt she would never get the smell off. She threw the clothes away.

She played it down when they demanded to know what had happened. She just shook her head and told them, "One of those things got too close."

Andrea had felt her whole world change as she stood in front of the vehicle and sent every shot straight between the eyes of every walker she aimed at. She'd been so pissed at Shane, pretty much since she met him but especially earlier when he'd mentioned Amy. But now, driving home, she actually saw him in a new light. What he'd taught her was invaluable. It made her feel stronger and more confident than she ever had in her life. More alive! And hell, he was really a good-looking guy. Even if he had been really distracted all morning.

She stared at him in profile for several more minutes before she got her courage up, but then she reached over and grabbed his crotch without saying a word.

Shane nearly jumped out of his skin at her first touch, but the place she touched him was so painfully sensitive that an electric shock surged through him.

Thoughts bombarded him from every angle. He thought of Lori, what would she think? He thought of Annie, and what he wanted with her. If this happened, would that be all over? He thought of Andrea herself. She was a whiny bitch who usually caused nothing but trouble, but she was a nice-looking woman. And it was damn clear that she wanted it. No teasing here!

He slammed on the brakes and stopped the car in the middle of the road.

"C'mon, then."

She paused for one second. "What about your little girlfriend?"

"Shut up," he growled and grabbed the back of her head.

At first, he tried to pretend it was Annie, but after a couple of minutes into it, he didn't give a shit.

Annie spent the late afternoon at the table with Dale and Carol. She decided she really like them and that might be enough reason alone to move on with the group.

Dale seemed to be worried about Andrea's safety. As dusk began to fall, he voiced his opinion to Rick that maybe someone should go look for them. Rick said no and Dale wasn't sure if that was good judgment or if Rick was still mad at Shane from the previous day.

Before full dark fell, the Murano came up the driveway. Carol went to meet them in hopes of some sign of Sophia and for some reason, Dale was still ridiculously overprotective of Andrea. Annie was glad they were back safe but she remained seated, dreading what this encounter might bring.

Andrea was grinning when she got out. One of those cat-that-ate-the-canary kinds of grins. Even when she told Carol they'd found no sign of her daughter. She walked right by Dale, defiant, almost daring him to say anything to her.

Shane was another story entirely. It was almost the same way he'd come home without Otis. He fidgeted. He wouldn't look at anyone longer than a quick, guilty glance. He wouldn't meet Annie's eyes at all.

She understood what had happened just as it became apparent to Dale.

Annie got up and turned her back on them, walking away quickly into the darkness. She went to the gazebo. It was far enough away from the camp that although Dale and Shane could be heard speaking heatedly, she couldn't make out any of the words except the final ones.

"So if you think I would do that to my best friend, then what would I do to a man I didn't even like?"

Then Shane turned towards her.

As Annie pushed the swing faster that it had gone in years, making the old chain creak and groan, she had to admit to herself that she was mad, hurt, and frankly, jealous. It became very clear just how attached she'd grown to him, how much she depended on being able to turn and talk to him. She couldn't blame him for doing what he did. It was something he needed that she just couldn't give. She would just miss him very much at night.

He came up onto the platform and leaned on the rail, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, arms crossed defensively. He just stared at her, not really sure what to say. It was clear she'd guess, just like Dale had. It was annoying to think that he couldn't keep a secret from either one of them.

"I'm glad you made it back safely," she said. "We were all getting worried."

"I'm glad you did too," he said. "Carol mentioned your encounter."

She shrugged. "It was probably not as exciting as yours."

If she was angry, would she tell all the others about Otis just to get back at him? She'd seemed to be different from the usual class of women he knew, that was why he'd been able to open up to her like nobody else. But still, she was a woman, and sometimes they could be so freaking spiteful!

"I'm sorry, Annie," he said. "It was a moment of weakness. She offered and I…I just took it."

"You don't owe me anything, Shane," she said. "That kind of thing just isn't something I can give away that casually. I didn't tell you before, but Mike was the only man I ever had sex with. We were high school sweethearts, isn't that what they call it? There was never anyone else. I told you that you scared me, so I don't blame you."

"Annie, stop!" he said, forcefully dragging the swing to a halt. "Okay, so maybe you don't owe me anything, but I shouldn't have done that. I wanted to wait for you to be comfortable with me. To be ready. I was stupid and I should not have done that."

Annie had made up her mind to throw her fear to the wind during her talk with Dale. After what she'd gone through at the church, this seemed like a very trivial thing to be afraid of. Was it too late now? All his words were past-tense.

She reached out and put her hand gently on his cheek, tracing the dark stubble there.

"I wanted that too," she said. "I wanted to know you were over Lori and that I wouldn't get hurt, but when you left this morning and didn't deny it, I was sure that's what you still felt."

"I left without speaking this morning," he began, putting his hand over hers, "Because I was so angry at myself for what had happened. I was mad and ashamed and that's why I let it happen with Andrea. Physically, yeah, it felt good, but inside, I was even more mad and ashamed."

Annie resisted the urge to say, "Good."

"Yeah, I thought I loved Lori. She clung to me when she thought Rick was dead and I mistook that for love. I made a promise to her that I would always make sure she and Carl were safe. I admit I do feel a loyalty to them to keep that promise – but as for loving her, she destroyed those feelings in me completely. I looked for them today, just to check and make sure, but they are dead. You don't have to worry about that at all."

She wished he had said that before what he'd done this afternoon.

As if reading her mind, he went to that topic.

"The thing with Andrea, it was purely a physical reaction. I told you yesterday, normally I can't stand being around her. Normally she can't stand being around me! I don't know what made this happen."

He continued, "There's never been another woman that I could talk to the way I can talk to you. To open up that way. No amount of sex can compare to how good that feels. I learned that today for sure. All I could think about was what I might be throwing away for about five minutes of grunting and sweating. You've talked a lot about how things are changing, and I'm seeing that I'm changing too. Things that I used to take for granted are turning out to be far more important that I ever knew. That kind of connection is worth so much more now, and you are the only person I know alive that I had that with. I don't want to throw it away!"

"If I read Andrea right, she's going to take this as the beginning of a relationship with you. The way she was grinning made that pretty obvious."

"I didn't give her anything at all to base that on. Hell, we didn't even talk all the way back here."

"Then she'll be nastier to me than Lori is."

"I figure Lori's just pissed because you seemed to ruin her back up plan," he said.

"I can't go with the group when half of them hate me," she said worriedly.

"If it gets that bad, then we'll go off on our own. We could make it. Maybe convince Daryl to come with us."

"I'd rather take Carol and Dale," Annie said, playing the game.

Shane looked doubtfully over his shoulder. "I don't think ol' Dale wants much to do with me right now."

8


End file.
